"Search me, O God, and know my heart…

See if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” - Psalm 139: 23-24

 


In March 2007, S. Maria Athanasia—fondly called “S. Annie”—wrote these verses in her diary as her preferred epitaph. It beautifully captured her life’s yearning for inner purity and God’s guidance at every turn.

 

Born on May 2, 1936, in Candahug, Palo, Leyte, she was the fifth of eight children of Gregorio Daga and Victoria Corales. A quiet and close-knit childhood was marked by the early loss of a younger brother and the joys of growing up with six siblings who remained her lifelong companions. Her name, drawn from Saint Athanasius—whose feast day coincided with her birth—seemed to foretell a life of faith, conviction, and service.

 

The family later moved to the town proper to support her siblings’ education. Though visits back to their barrio were limited, her memories remained vivid: shared belongings, sisterly hand-me-downs, and nightly family Rosaries. Her mother, a catechist, and her father, a worker in the diocesan lumberyard, raised them in a home where Catholic devotion was the heartbeat of daily life.

 

Her First Holy Communion, lovingly prepared by her mother, was a sacred milestone. She joined the children’s choir, sang at Palm Sunday and Easter Masses, and participated joyfully in Flores de Mayo and the Living Rosary. These early experiences deepened her Marian devotion and stirred in her the first inklings of a religious calling.

 

In high school, the RVM Sisters’ presence further shaped her faith. As a member of the Little Flower Society and the Sodality of Our Lady, her love for the Blessed Mother blossomed. Daily Mass and Holy Communion became anchors of her life. Though she faced an illness that caused a temporary leave from school, she returned with quiet maturity and deeper resolve, especially after her sister Lydia entered the RVM.

 

A turning point came in her senior year when she was tasked with changing altar linens and flowers at the Cathedral—an act of devotion she embraced with reverence. While she earned academic honors and was named “Miss Alma Mater,” she humbly withheld this news from her parents to spare them the cost of attending the ceremonies—something she would later regret, knowing her father would have treasured that moment.

 

After graduation, financial difficulty threatened to end her dreams of college. But Divine Providence intervened. On June 21, 1957, M. Maria Asuncion Chavez, RVM, invited her to enroll at Assumption College in Guiuan, Eastern Samar, with a promise of future teaching. Though hesitant to seek her parents’ permission, she eventually did. She began teaching even before completing her studies, handling adult learners before transitioning to academic classes. She would earn her Junior Normal diploma (1960), a B.S. in Education (Lourdes College, 1976), and a Master’s in Educational Management (De La Salle University, 1980).

 

Her call to religious life, long felt but unspoken, became undeniable. A local play on the life of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, her frequent visits to the convent, and her growing love for the Eucharist and Our Lady shaped her interior call. When asked directly, “How about you?” she felt something stir. Yet her father opposed the idea, and her mother remained silent. The Sisters, respectful of family tensions, would not accept her without consent.

 

It was during a retreat that Fr. Anthony Gampp, SJ, told her that at 24, she was free to choose her path. With quiet resolve and the help of a supportive friend, she departed and arrived in Manila on her birthday, May 2, 1960, leaving only her youngest sister informed. Her brother, sent to fetch her the next day, was unaware she had already made her decision. On July 31, she was received as one of twelve postulants.

 

She entered the Novitiate on February 1, 1961; professed vows on February 2, 1963; and made her perpetual profession on February 2, 1969. She joyfully celebrated her Silver (1988), Golden (2013), and Diamond Jubilee (2023)—milestones of unwavering fidelity.

Family tensions and early health struggles did not shake her vocation. She prayed for clarity and held on to her conviction. A misinterpreted telegram about her grandfather's death brought her home, creating a path for reconciliation with her father.

 

Though often perceived as strict, her quiet strength inspired respect. Her presence alone commanded discipline. In mission after mission, often in dangerous zones, she served with courage.

 

In Sta. Cruz, Davao del Sur (1985–1992), she led amid armed conflict. Rebel threats, nightly crossfires, and student infiltration by insurgent groups were constant challenges. She negotiated bravely with the military to protect minors and fostered mutual respect among opposing forces. Despite her fears, she trusted in divine protection, once reflecting: “The will of God will not take you where the grace of God will not protect you.”


Amid conflict, she even oversaw campus improvements with aid from Manos Unidas. Remarkably, no demands for revolutionary tax were ever made, and the Sisters remained unharmed—something she saw as God’s providence.

 

In her later years in Baguio and Tagaytay retreat houses, she found peace. In silence and solitude, she encountered God more intimately. When sorrow overwhelmed her, she would hear a gentle whisper: “I was with you all the time; you were in My protection.”

Her final mission in Gumaca, Quezon, was quietly heroic. Unable to bear the community's grief, she left at dawn, silently saying goodbye to a place and people she loved.

 

Her life was one of fidelity to prayer, quiet leadership, and deep trust in God. Her Marian devotion, lived in simplicity and hiddenness, shaped her interior life. Her missionary zeal and humble service made her an exemplary religious.

 

“Yes, Lord. I am Yours.”
This was her constant refrain.

 

In her final days, though her voice faltered, her gentle hands and expressive eyes conveyed gratitude, love, and peace. Her memory—her laughter, her kindness, her quiet faith—will live on.

 

Goodbye, dear S. Maria Athanasia. Thank you for your generous life of service and profound love for the Congregation and the Church. May the Lord welcome you with joy, and may your sacrifices bear fruit in the eternal Kingdom.